Tattoos and Scars
by SinfulWhispers91
Summary: OOC-Human, LEMONS! *** Alice, an artist, is at the bar with her girl friends when she see's a mysterious man. She decides to stay for another drink or maybe more with the help of Mr. Jack Daniels. * Jasper is a respected Major in the US Army, who is on leave. Currently he MOSTLY does sculptures. * A random night may lead to a deep love, but with this black secrete keep them apart
1. Hello, Jack

She kept steeling looks at him all night. There was something about him that made her curious. It could have been the stark contrast between his light, sandy hair and his tanned skin. He worked, obviously worked hard; not just because of his radiant skin tone, but the sculpted muscles she could see leaving small valleys of shadow and rounding off into lighter mounds where she knew chiseled flesh must lay. She didn't peg him for the fist-pumping, tanning bed type, so she assumed her assumptions where correct. As she followed the line of that one particular bicep his scruffy hair almost reached, she stopped for a moment to ponder the black swirling designs that jutted up past the sleeve of his tee. _I wonder what it is, exactly._ She thought to herself, allowing her slim pinky finger to round the ring of her wine glass.

"ALICE!" an impatient thumb and middle finger snapped her back to attention. "Jeze, air-head. You looked like you were having a paranormal episode or something!" Rose sounded annoyed, as usual for her.

"Sorry." She muttered. Bella smiled and gave her a look as if to say, _ignore the bitch. _

"We're taking off. I have to take Nessy to the doctor tomorrow and Rose is just _above this place_." She said mocking their friend. Rose made what was supposed to be an ugly face, but her angelic features betrayed her efforts.

"Um, yeah; sure. You guys go ahead. I'm gonna finish my glass and I'll be headed home too." The women exchanged good-byes and the two left. The pixiesque woman sat and put her glass of red wine to her lips; the dry bitter Sangiovese caressed her mouth but the tantalizing romance was gone. She thought for a second about whether or not to get something harder, a Jack & Coke, maybe. _Fuck it, _she mentally gave in, _what the hell to I have to wake up to besides a cat and coffee?_

As she turned to stand up from the little table at the window, she noticed _him_ again. She felt nervous for no reason; like a girl in high school who had to walk by her crush to get to her locker. He had shifted. Now instead of propping himself up with his elbow making that gorgous bicep flex ever so slightly, he now loafed in his stool with his feet covering the one next to him. His legs were long, just as muscular as his torso judging by the way his jeans hugged his thighs. She took a deep breath and, with glass in hand, walked across the hardwood of the nearly empty bar. He noticed her briefly and moved his legs, still semi-facing the direction of the now empty seat.

She set her glass down as the bartender approached, "You want me to cap it off for you?" she asked a little confused with the half-full glass.

"No, I think I want something a bit harder. I'm in a whiskey mood all of a sudden."

"Get her some Jack." His voice was husky, deep with the hint of an accent that came from somewhere far away from Portsmouth. The bartender looked at her and she simply nodded. The man pulled out a seat and gestured for her to sit down. She did. She studied the tattoo again; more closely this time. It was a tribal; a pretty one. It swirled and ebbed neatly and beautifully. "Like what you see?" She jumped just a bit before meeting his honey brown eyes. She had half expected them to be blue, but the brown was warm, inviting and a little enchanting.

"It's … unique. I like it. I like it quite a bit." She mused. He half smiled out of the corner of his mouth. That started their conversation; little things at first, then a little more. Of course, it was accompanied by Jack, a little at first, then a little more.

She wasn't yet sure how exactly it had happened, but soon she was following this stranger across the street and down an ally. He lead the way to a flight of wooden steps that lead to his loft. What exactly was the reason they went there again? Oh, yes, the art piece he had done. Right?

He unlocked the door and stepped in, turning on a light and holding the door for her. She saw it as soon as she walked in. It was beautiful. Ornate, winding wire and steel, bound together in abstract bliss. She slipped off her shoes as he had done and was gravitated towards it. She studied it; the lines and angles somehow both sharp and soft at the same time. She felt his breath behind her. She wasn't nervous, as she should be, but instead oddly calm. "I … I'm not sure I have words for it yet."

"That makes two of us, miss. It's not finished yet. I'm stuck." He was close, very close. She should have felt uneasy about his proximity, but she felt the opposite. She felt hot. If she were being honest, maybe even a little wet. She turned around to say something, but he was gone. Across the room she heard the tink of glassware. "Are you still playing with Jack, or would you like only the coke, miss?"

"Water would be wonderful actually."

He turned on the tap and obliged her. Their hands brushed for a moment as he handed it to her. Absentmindedly, she pushed up the sleeve of his tee to reveal the tattoo. Just as ornate as the sculpture in the corner, just as mysterious.

"This is beautiful. What does it mean?" She mused, tracing it with her finger.

"I have more." He offered ignoring her question and speaking with more of a lush tone in his voice as he lifted up the black cotton. She was right about her first assumption that he was muscular. Who the hell was she kidding; boy was built and covered in ink. She studied him, his art, him _as_ art. As an artist herself she could appreciate the work that went into something like this. His body was a masterpiece. At somepoint she had placed her small hand on his body, feeling, flowing, moving all around his chest and stomach, tracing images of swirls and animals and print. She looked at where her hand was; across the lettering between his hip-bones where his pants had sunk and definitely tightened. She was suddenly completely aware of the situation she had put herself in. She looked up as their eyes met again. There was a want in those honey brown eyes; a need. She felt it too. Her small nipples were tight as buttons, her cotton boy shorts wet. They both were filled with the need to be sated.

She moved her little hand a little bit lower, to the brass button of his jeans. She flicked it open with a fluid movement, still never breaking eye contact. He took the glass from her hand and put it on a table she hadn't noticed was there. She pulled down his zipper, carefully so she wouldn't catch skin. He took in a sharp hiss of air through his nose. Still making eye contact, she gently released his cock, hard and warm and throbbing between her little fingers. She played with the tip, gently circling the slit at the top. She felt a tiny dribble of liquid on her finger and swiped her thumb across the very tip to collect the precum that had gathered there. He cupped her face with both hands and brought it close to hisown. Silently, lightly, he traced the crease of her lips with his tongue, asking for entrance and she definitely complied. He tasted wonderful, spice from the whiskey and tobacco from the cigarette he had put out just before they entered the loft. She let go of his dick and tangled her fingers in his hair, soaking in the feeling of their tongues battling for dominancy. He released her face with one hand just to place it on the small of her back. His mouth nibbling, teasing and gently suckling her neck. She let out a light moan. His hand wandered a little bit lower, cupping her ass momentarily before lingering on the back of her thigh, then the front.

"May I?" he asked. _Oooo that accent. Where the hell is that from? _But that was a question she was unable to ask. She managed a staggered "Um-hmm" as his fingers, so strong and thick moved upwards to unbutton her jeans and slip a hand inside. She could feel him smile against her neck as he realized how wet she was. "My, oh, my." He teased. He began to make intricate little circles with his middle finger through the fabric over her opening, like a whirlpool in a river. Not to rough, but not gently either. She whimpered and he giggled, just a bit. "May I?" he asked again. This time she didn't get a chance to answer before he was tugging down her pants and panties. He sunk with them, kissing the top of each thigh, then gently picking her up and continuing their kiss.

She could feel his hot member against the blue cotton that shielded her moisture from him. He walked around to a big chair and sat down there. She caught her breath for a moment, only a moment. She pulled back and looked at him, his lips were swollen, his eyes wild. She stood up, pulled her panties down half way, slowly, very slowly. He went slack jaw, examining her smooth pussy; bald with a thin line of short curls showing she was most definitely a woman. She turned around and bend over to remove her underwear and tossed them in the general direction of where they had once stood. Before she could stand back up, his hands where on her hips, soft and firm, pleading for her to succumb to him.

"M-may – " she cut him off by positioning herself overtop of his cock and easily sliding onto it with the dripping juices from her slit. They groaned in pleasure. He began with his nipping and sucking on her neck, between her shoulder blades and moving his thumbs in circles on her hips, waiting for her to move. She started slowly bouncing lightly, up and down, up and down with each thrust moving his dick across the engorged and tremendously sensitive walls of her not-so-often-used sex. His tumb moved to rest on her clit, she yipped. Oh God, it felt so good. She moved faster, hotter, harder. He matched every thrust with one of his own. His touch on her clit got lighter all at once and she was in extocy! He chuckled a bit, pinning her hips hard against his with his wide hands as she rode out her first orgasm of the night, moaning sweet nothings.

He picked her up, still hooked to him. She wrapped her arms backwards around his neck, interlacing her own fingers as he nibbled her ear. He pressed her firmly against the wall, pinned her arms above her head and took her with much, much more force until she screamed. He flipped her over, facing him and put her legs on his shoulders to suspend her as he held her ass in one hand, the other on her left breast while he nibbled and teased the other rock hard nipple. Shock waves of pleasure shot up and down her spine. Somehow she was able to ask him to cum with her, he answered with a kiss and moved his free hand from her now swollen nip to her clit and teased and plucked and flicked it. She was on the virge of euphoria!

"Jasper!" was the only word that crept from her mouth as the first wave hit her senses, followed by his and a few more of hers.

The next morning, she awoke, wearing a black cotton tee, curled up in somebody's lap. She looked up and it was Jasper. She laid her head back down for just a moment.

"Good morning." He said quietly. She just looked up and smiled. He kissed her forehead. "Hate to make you move, darling, but I gotta piss." She giggled and jumped off his lap. She replayed the events from last night. Boy would Rose be on her ass now.

"Are you a breakfast kind of gal?" He asked drying his hands as he was coming from the bathroom, clad only in a pair of boxers he must have grabbed on his way in.

"I … um … I …" Just then his phone rang.

"Hold that thought. Major Witlock." His tone was suddenly serious. Major? HE was a Major? "Good morning, Sir. Yes, Sir. About an hour, Sir." He hung up the phone and set it on the counter. He came back over to the chair with a glass of water. "I have to run. You are welcome to stay here, or you are welcome to leave and never have me bug you again, miss. If you choose to stay, I will be back within a few hours' time." He kissed her fore head again, grabbed another black tee from a drawer and pulled on the jeans from last night and slipped on his boots. He grabbed the key off hook on the wall and said, "Hope to see you in a few hours, Miss. Alice." as he walked out the door.

Alice had finished her water, picked up a tiny bit and found a piece of paper and a pen.

_I had to go feed my cat and check some stuff back at my house. I think I need to sleep off our good friend Jack today, but I will be back at the bar on Monday at 7 if you would like to meet me for a drink. _

- _Alice_

_P.S. If you want my number, you better be there. _


	2. Wake Me Up

Still a little dazed, it took her a few minutes, to unlock her front door. _Mrs. McArdle must think I'm half nuts. _She thought to herself as she fumbled getting the key in the lock. It was bad enough that she had to do the "Walk of Shame" in last night's clothing, but this morning – like every other Sunday morning – Mrs. McArdle was out bright and early at 8 am tending to her small garden by her mail-box. Her elderly neighbor was kind a sweet, but a bit nosey and a bit of a gossip. Alice was the kind of person who liked to keep to herself most of the time. She had few friends, but they were very close; her family.

Finally, she was able to sink the key in the correct way and unlocked her door to slip inside. Inside where she was confronted by a very MAD Chowder! Her rescued Devon Rex was NOT happy at all! He sat perched in the potted magnolia tree next to the entry way. His sharp black ears, too big for his head, were flattened and his green eyes pierced her dark brown ones. "I'm sorry!" She said. He replied with a loud meow and followed her throughout the house. She went directly to his food dish and filled it with a can of his favorite food and topped it with the little fish shaped treats he likes so much. He ate it still griping in-between bites. She smiled a little half smile as she fixed herself a cup of coffee.

"You know, if you keep talking with your mouth full, you are liable to choke." She mused. The small, pixie like cat glared at her and went back to bitching and eating. Alice giggled and took her coffee with her to the bathroom. She caught her reflection in the mirror. "Ugh. How cute." She was a mess.

Setting her coffee down on the counter, she popped the tub drain and began running hot water and her favorite minty bubble bath was added. She went back to her reflection and noted the bags under her eyes, the soft freckles blushing through the faded foundation and concealer she had put on the night before. She sipped her coffee and removed the black shirt she was still wearing. It smelled like _him. _She smiled as she pulled it over her head. She must of left her top at his house last night … somewhere. They had been all over the loft, well, nearly. She followed the line of her own pointy jaw and slender neck right down to the curve where her shoulder began.

"Oh my God. He saw the scars." Horrified, she remembered last night, his light nips and kisses down the ebb of her neck. She turned half way around to look at the scars between her shoulder blades, where he had left a myriad of kisses and warm tender grazes. She hadn't even thought of it. There was a reason she wore covering articles of clothing. She hated the scars. What they were; what they reminded her of.

She finished undressing, trying to put _those_ thoughts out of her head and sank in the water. It was wonderful. Warm tingling water covered her. She sunk down, leaving only her nose and eyes above water, only for a few seconds, then came back up to rest her head on the angled slope at the back of the tub. She couldn't stop thinking about him. The way he moved, with her and against her. The way his eyes met hers. The way he suckled her breasts – her hand moved to one nipple and gently folded it over, beaded it between her fingers. The way he teased her – with her other hand, she let it float mindlessly to her swollen pink bud. Oh, the wonderful things that he did to her.

She went off into her own fantasy land of bubbles and bliss until she came again, for the 4th time in less than 12 hours.

"No, Rosalie. Yes. No. You are impossible, you realize that right?" She giggled into the phone as she sat on her sofa sipping hot chocolate and watching the rain. "I'm hanging up the phone now!"

"_Wait! Emmett wants to know if you are coming out to the lake with us next weekend for the big camping trip after the ball game? You are still going to the baseball game right, Ms. Mysterious?" _

"Of course I am. And possibly camping too. I have to wait and see, I may have other plans."

_"Like WHAT? Did you suddenly get a life?" _

"Good bye, Rose!" Alice hung up the phone and had to laugh inwardly at her friend. She loved the baseball games that she attended with her friends, but he was defiantly on her mind tonight, almost more than he was last night. What on earth did he have to do this morning anyways? Why did he have to work on a Sunday?

Jasper opened the front door of his loft and walked in. He could still smell her in the air. The musky sent of their adventure last night made his member twinge. She wasn't there though. He figured as much. No chance that a sexy little thing like that would walk into his life and actually stay for once. No way was he that lucky. He walked around the small space and thought about the night before. Where it all started … by the sculpture … waking up in the chair. He was aroused just thinking about it. He walked over to the chair and sat down, something crinkled beneath his weight and he got up and looked down on the cushion. _A receipt from the grocery store?_ He flipped it over in his hand and saw the neat, curved, elegant writing.

_I had to go feed my cat and check some stuff back at my house. I think I need to sleep off our good friend Jack today, but I will be back at the bar on Monday at 7 if you would like to meet me for a drink. _

- _Alice_

_P.S. If you want my number, you better be there. _

Oh, he would be there, for sure. But for tonight, he would just have to take matters into his own hands.

After his "solo session" in the shower, Jasper came out – still dripping wet – and laid down on the couch.

"That would have been interesting," he thought to himself imagining literally bending the little fay woman over backwards against the arm-rest of his tattered couch. He didn't dare call it a sofa, his old man would have smacked him for being prissy. He couldn't get that girl out of his head. Broyles had even called him out on it this morning.

As they sat in the brush, waiting for their mark, he had chuckled to himself, thinking of how she was so bendy last night. How miffed she had been this morning when she woke up. She hadn't known it, but he hadn't slept. He had stayed up all night wondering about those scars. He knew she had to of been hiding something when that tight little body walked up to the bar wearing a turtle neck tank-top. The satin chords down the side made it sexy as hell, but damn, it was so concealing. They had been so into it last night, he didn't think that she thought about taking it off. As a matter of fact, he doesn't remember _when_ it came off, but it did. And he saw them. There was a series of three perfect circles on the side of her neck near her collar bone, just above that sweet little dip of skin. If he would have taken out a sharpie and drawn a line connecting the marks, it would have made a perfect triangle. It wasn't something self-inflicted, he was sure, but nothing that was accidental – he was positive of that. He had kissed them, each one of them; as if it would help the pain go away.

Then minutes later, when she was riding him reverse in his chair, he saw the ones on her back, between her shoulder blades. These were more dash-like, again, too perfect not to be accidental.

"What kind of hell have you been through, darling?" He mused to himself.

His questions would just have to wait until Monday. Monday at 7 when he would see her again.


	3. What makes him so special?

**Hey guys! Sorry my first two chapters where kind of in an odd-looking format. I haven't wrote on FF in a while, not in about 3 years anyways (before I had my youngest who is going to be 2 next month). Anywhoseles – I think I fixed the formatting issue that someone had written me about. Just getting back into it with this story, it's my beta if you will, so a review or 40 would be lovely! **

**Thanks to those of you who are following 3 **

It had taken some sneaking around and a little white lie or two, but Alice managed to ditch Rosalie tonight. She had been on her case all day today about why she was acting so weird.

She walked through the front door and the little twinkle of the bell overhead gave notice of her arrival. He turned around instantly. His hair was more brushed out tonight, he wore a nicer shirt with print on it and had something hanging out of his pocket? What the hell could that be?

She smiled and wiggled her fingers at him in a flirty wave and walked straight to him. The bartender, the same one from Saturday night, came up to her and asked what she would like to drink, "Just a glass of white wine please." She turned to Jasper and smiled. "I have something for you." she said opening her purse. His tee shirt laid neatly folded right on top.

He chucked, deep and throaty and said, "Keep it, I have plenty. It's probably more comfortable than this." He said, about to pull the article out of his pocket. It was her shirt! Her vest with the high neck and chords down the side! She grabbed his wrist to stop him without thinking about it first.

"Not here!" She laughed. He smiled and his eyes lit up meeting hers. He pulled his wrist from her hand and intertwined their fingers.

"I was worried that I had scared you away." He said, his voice quiet and almost shy.

"Obviously you found my note; either that or you need to start up AA." She joked and almost immediately wanted to take it back. He chuckled again though, reassuring her that he was not offended and did in fact get the note. "I … um … you know, that's not something that I would normally do; going to someone's house that I had just met."

"Did I particularly strike you as the type of person who does?" she shook her head at his question, "I would also assume that you don't often meet-up with your shouldn't-have one-night-stands either?" She blushed a bit, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks and knowing they had pinked a little bit. "Then pray-tell, darling, what in the hell makes me so special?"

His question had caught her off guard. _What _had_ made him so special? _In fact, what made him special enough to move her from her chair across the room that night? She didn't know how to answer, so she didn't. Instead she sipped – chugged really – her white wine and they took the conversation to more docile waters.

They talked endlessly it seemed, until around 11, the bartender politely asked then to continue their conversation elsewhere since they were the only two in there and she would love to get home early. Alice extended an innocent-enough invitation for one more drink back at her house.

oOoOoOoOo

On the 5 block walk back to her little home on 3rd street, they had talked about how pissed Chowder was at her when she walked through the door yesterday morning, and about how odd the little cat was and how he was rescued and other gap-filling things.

Once in her entryway, she closed the front door behind them, leaving them in the semi-darkness. She started to lead him to the kitchen and stopped suddenly, causing him to bump into her. They giggled at each other apologetically and their eyes met.

Her eyes flickered down to his lips. He took her face softly in his wide hand, thumb on one side, fingers holding her cheeks gently. When he kissed her hard, she didn't resist. Pulling back, he gingerly traced a line between her lips with his thumb, and then his mouth was engulfing her mouth. Earthly boundaries didn't allow them to be close enough. She grabbed his ass and pulled him in to her hips as she took a step back against the wall.

His hands moved down and cupped both her breasts. She was wearing a light cotton low-cut shirt with a bright green scarf allowing him to easily slip a hand inside her bra. When he fondled one nipple playfully, it instantly became erect. As she felt her knees go weak, she locked one knee around his thigh. He slid his two hands past her waist and hips, down the outside of her thighs, and hitched her legs up around his hips, noticing she had no underwear underneath her skirt. She latched on to his body, ankles crossed behind him, holding herself up with her elbows on his shoulders. He swiftly and carefully snatched the green scarf over her head. Closing her eyes and throwing her head back, she pressed her neck against his kisses.

She felt him move towards the sofa. Back to reality, they hesitated at the sofa, wondering how to do this gracefully. She let go of her clinging embrace and fell backwards, giggling at the whimsy of it all. Moving away from her, he kissed her stomach softly on the way down, and knelt on the floor between her knees. Expertly, he pulled her legs towards him so that her backside was perched on the edge of the cushion. She was propping her-self up against the back of the couch now with her shoulders, a questioning smile on her face. His fingertips circled her ankles, feather-light, and then he slowly stroked the length of her legs, all the time gazing deep into her eyes. She held his stare, and he saw that she reciprocated his feelings.

With a menacing grin, he scrunched up her skirt and kissed her in the hollows inside her hips, brushing his lips from one side to the other. She groaned softly, lay back and stretched her arms behind her, raising her body towards the ceiling. He could feel her pleasure. He could smell her pleasure. Then, he tasted it. He felt her relax and give into him, hot juices flowing warm and sweet; oh so sweet.

She could start to feel the buildup, the intense pressure and passion, hot and cold all at once. He placed one wide finger inside of her and swirled and wiggled it. Moved it up and pressed against the top of her core where his tongue met on the outside. It was incredible and intense. White dots flashed in front of her face and she moaned and cried out in pleasure.

This time, he was thinking a bit ahead. He kissed her cute swollen pink button and then moved her still-recovering body from the seat on the couch to the arm of the couch, bent over backwards like he had thought about before. He rested his cock on top of her, it's tip nearly reaching her belly-button and kissed her softly laying a trail from between her breasts to her supple lips. He knew she was ready to go again when she started kissing him back, more passionately than she had when they first started. He jutted deep into her, not giving her time to recover. He moved his kisses from her lips, to her neck, down to her lovely giving tits. Goddamn they felt brilliant in his mouth, he loved the way her nipple beaded so instantly when his tongue hit it. The way she bucked and wriggled and squealed with pleasure. He wasn't sure what it was about this girl, but damnit he _needed HER! _

Right after that moment of realization, he felt her clamp down hard on his sheath.

"I'm … I'm … Jazz … I'm gonna …. Ooooooo!" and he came with her.

oOoOoOoOo

She did finally get them that drink they had talked about; just hot-chocolate instead of wine. They sat on her sofa, covered in a soft fleece blanket that she had pulled out of the closet. She leaned against his chest and put her mug to her lips.

"Can I ask you something, Miss. Alice?" damn, where is the accent from?

"Only if you can tell me where you are from?" she asked before she thought.

"Texas, originally. And you?" he chuckled.

"Mississippi, then a few … other places … and now, here for the last 5 years or so."

"That wasn't the question, just so you know." He was teasing she could tell, but she was a bit nervous about what he was going to ask. "What is it exactly that you do?"

She choked a bit on her cocoa. "I paint. And I play a little bit of piano."

"Well then, you will have to play for me sometime."

"Oh! That reminds me; where is your phone? I'll put my number in there for you." she was light hearted, care free and comfortable. Something she hadn't felt for some time.

"Actually, I have it on the charger at home. I will remember if you just tell me." So she rambled her number off several times before it turned into a tickle fight and then some more cuddling before they both drifted off to sleep.


	4. Anything, Anytime, Anywhere

**Hello again! Sorry it has taken me a while to post this chapter! **

**Before you start reading, please know that the story embedded into this one has a twist of truth and reality. My mother has always had a slightly un-healthy fascination with the mafia and this was one of the stories that she was telling me about the other day and I just saw it flowing in soooo smoothly with some of the Twilight characters (which, of course you know, are not my own). Feel free to Google the "Crab Brothers" if you wish; it's quite an interesting turn of events if you get into that sort of thing! **

He woke suddenly, instantly at the tell-tale sound of a cell phone vibrating. It stopped as soon as it had started. _Shit. _He looked down at the tiny woman who was still fast asleep on his broad chest. Slowly, evenly, he shifted her so that she was lying on the couch. He quietly found his jeans and removed the Android phone from his pocket first.

No missed calls. No text messages. No notifications.

He reluctantly reached back into his pocket and grabbed the small black disposable flip phone.

1 missed call from CNL

_Shit! _He thought to himself. That could only mean one thing; and it wasn't good.

oOoOoOoOo

As he approached the door, the halogen light came on illuminating the rusted green warehouse. He didn't slow his pace, but steadily walked on to the solid steel door. He punched a code into the box and opened the door. Six pairs of eyes bore down on him. He was going to catch hell for this.

"Glad you could join us, Major. Please, have a seat at the conference table." The fluid and nearly condescending voice drifted down from the rafters and Jasper looked up to see the Colonel. He was in his typical dress; black boots, laced tightly with precision, black cargo pants with eight pockets, a plain black cotton tee and a holster firmly fitted to his hip which, Jasper knew, held a .45 cal pistol. In his left side pocket, Jasper could see the green cap with the crimson red flash signifying that he was indeed a 7th SFG in the United States Army.

"Gentlemen, I do apologize for waking you at 3am; though some of us clearly didn't get the message until later, seeing as how it is now 0415. We have a new mark. This one will need some constant monitoring. I know that we are technically on leave – but – terror never sleeps."

In unison, the entire group recited, "Lo Que Sea, Cuando Sea, Donde Sea." The Colonel smiled. He nodded to the youngest of the group, First Lieutenant Brozo, who handed everyone a blue file folder. Jasper opened up the first page. The picture of the man, obviously from his driver's license, made his heart stop. He looked oddly familiar. Though his skin was leathered, the sharp features of his facial structure and deep brown eyes were haunting.

"His name is Maxwell Brandon. Mr. Brandon is a jeweler out of Biloxi, Mississippi. Brandon is also suspected of killing his late wife, but surprisingly enough; the county M.E. labeled it an accident just before his son married for the first time. Within months, Brandon re-married. When his wife passed away, Brandon had two daughters; the youngest was with her maternal grandmother on the night her mother passed away. She was young and didn't quite know what was going on. His oldest didn't take it as well, and she was sent to an institution where she took part in clinical studies to help with schizophrenia. It was later found that she was_ not _schizophrenic, but – per her account – has lost some of her memory. I suspect she knew something about how her mother died. Here is the fun stuff; Brandon's new wife, Laura, was born in Cleveland, but grew up in Youngstown Ohio until 1981 when her daddy-o got in to witness protection. Who might her daddy be?" the Colonel waited a few moments building anticipation, "Charles Carabbia."

"As in _Charlie the Crab_?" asked the man to Jasper's left; Dickerson.

"The one and only crustacean that is slimier than slime."

"What the hell does that mean for us? An old has-been mobster with a daughter who married a might-have-been murderer?" The entire team looked as Jasper with shock and dismay. He may be _their_ superior, but the Colonel was _his_ superior.

The Colonel's eyes shone with laughter. "Remember your good friend, Maria from Panama, Major?" He asked. Jasper cringed at the thought. "Well, who do you suppose the M.E.'s son married?"

"No. Fucking. Way."

"Her daughter; Amelia. That brings us right back to our only known terror cell we have found after six years of OEF-CCA; Maria, her sisters, and their good friend Benito."

oOoOoOoOo

Alice woke up to the soft rumble of the Chowder's purr on her chest. She stretched up her arm to stroke Jasper. Sadly she was met with the cool fabric of the sofa. She was immediately disappointed. She sat up and scratched her head. She could smell coffee, bacon and syrup in the kitchen. Her mouth instantly began to water. Remembering she was nude; she wrapped the blanket around herself like a frat-party styled toga and quietly went to stand by the walkway to the kitchen.

He was turned away from her busy at the stove. He had ear-buds stringing up from the pocket of his blue jeans that sank dangerously low on his muscular waist, showing that dangerously sexy V shape that made a defined line above his hip bones. A towel that had geometric shapes in warm reds, yellows and oranges was draped across his shoulder as he flipped bacon in a pan … with a metal fork?

She shook her head with a smile on her face and walked over to the drawer and pulled out a silicone tipped pair of cooking tongs. She playfully pinched his butt with them and made him jump and spin around, holding the fork like a weapon. She started laughing immediately.

His facial expressions were priceless; at first she witness the immediate reaction of fight, then confusion and then a little bit of embarrassment. He pulled one plug from his ear and smiled widely at her.

"I made you breakfast. I hope you don't mind that I raided the fridge." He set the weapon down and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"As long as I have coffee and you didn't ruin my frying pan with your mighty sword, I can live with that fact." She smiled as he bent his neck to kiss her. Not hot and heavy like last night, or a few nights ago, but sweetly, softly, like it was something routine that happened every day. _That's something I could get used to_. She thought to herself. She pulled away from his embrace to get a cup of coffee. "Is there anything that I can help you with right now?" She asked.

"Nope. Just go ahead and sit down, darling." He said with that wonderful Texas accent.

She set her coffee down on the table and hugged him from behind. "In that case, I'm going to go freshen up a bit real quick. I'll be right back." She kissed the middle of his spine and ran off with her toga-blanket to the bathroom.

oOoOoOoOo

After a quick shower and a reverse halter top sundress, she returned to her little kitchen table. He had quite the spread laid out. Cinnamon pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon and toast with honey. He was sitting down with the morning paper and sipping his coffee. Once he noticed her, he got up and pulled out the chair where she had set her coffee down at.

"Didn't have time to read the paper yesterday?" She quipped.

"Oh, this is from today. I grabbed it from the post for you. Your neighbor seems nice." He said very nonchalant.

Alice damn-near spit out her coffee. "You WHAT!"

"Miss. Betty? She seems nice. I helped her get that little yippy dog back into the yard. She was very … thankful I guess. She seems a bit kooky, but she was nice." He said as if it was normal for someone to do.

"Jasper … I …"

"Oh – no, no, no. Don't worry. I ran to my house when I woke up around 6 to grab my phone. She thought I had just shown up." He had put the paper down and looked at her now, his honey brown eyes sparkling. "I would never do anything to harm your reputation or lose you any due respect, Miss. Alice." He reached across to trace her fingers that lay flat and tense against the sleek glass of her table. She turned her hand over, enjoying the tenderness of his touch. His hands were calloused, but when they held her, they seemed smooth as silk.

"Jasper; what are we doing?" she asked, not necessarily wanting to know the answer.

"I was under the impression we were going to eat breakfast." She could hear the joking nature in his voice, but knew he understood the question. "I really like you, Alice. Not just _having you_ but _you _in general. I like being around you. I cannot explain it really. It just feels right." As he said this, his eyes told her that no part of that statement was a farce. She sighed deeply. She felt the same way, but how could she possibly want someone so much on so much more than just a physical level with only knowing him for a weekend's time?

They finished their breakfast, which was glorious, and he washed the dishes as she put them away. The whole time they talked about sweet nothings and little things. Around noon, he decided it was time to head back to the loft and get things straightened up and maybe work on his sculpture some more; last night had given him a great idea. She walked him to the door and he held her face lightly with one hand, his thumb drawing tiny circles on her cheek. "Miss. Alice, would you like to accompany me to dinner tonight. A formal date instead of a dusty bar?" She smiled up at him.

"Of course. What time?"

"May I pick you up at six?"

oOoOoOoOo

Alice was about to call Bella and ask her to go shopping with her for something slinky to wear on her date tonight when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"_Alice, honey! How are you?_" the cold, snarky voice on the other end made her cringe. She didn't say a word.

"_Ali, are you there, darling? It's Mummy Laura! Your daddy and I want to make a trip up to that nasty cold place you call home. Max misses you deeply." _

She hung up the phone. The very last thing that she wanted just when her meager life seemed to be turning around was her murdering, hideous father and the step mother who convinced him to put her into the Asylum to begin with after their marriage. No way. No how.

Instead of calling Bella, she called Rose.

"_Yeah?"_

"Hey. What do you have that I can borrow for a date?"

"_Nothing I have is gonna fit your tiny ass. I have too many curves you can't fill out!"_

"Cut the shit, Rose! Come pick me up. I need shopping therapy."

"_Al, what the hell happened?"_

"I'll explain when you get here." And with that she hung up the phone and grabbed a scarf that matched her dress.

oOoOoOoOo

**I love getting reviews! Keeps me motivated ;) **


	5. Wonderland

**I apologize for the delay! Had a difficult week with school and E.R. trips. Getting in a little bit deeper here with the plot that lays beneath all the delicious smut XD Hope you like! Reviews are wonderful**

"Ali? Hello! Ali, dear?" a slender thumb with a pink painted nail swiped the end button on the glass of the android phone. "Max. Your daughter is being stubborn again. Why can't she just play along like Cynthia? Damn; she's just like her mother."

The weathered man came around the corner to see his young wife sitting in the arm chair with her legs over the side. Her robe was haphazardly tied closed, but he could still see the smooth skin of her slender stomach down to where the strings sat knotted at the dark valley her legs created.

"Now, don't you mind her. Come to the veranda with me for coffee, honey." He replied in his smoke-ridden voice.

"But, Maxie, it is already noon. Won't you make me a martini and meet me in the bedroom instead?" she cooed and gave a devilish grin.

"Only if you promise to remove that dreadful shroud that is messing up my view." He teased back.

oOoOoOoOo

Right at six, a car slowly rolled into the drive. She heard it and smiled to herself. Why was she even considering the possibility that he wouldn't be exactly on time? She finished brushing the pressed powder across her forehead and stood back from the mirror. She looked pretty damn good. The deep mahogany dress that Rose helped her choose was brilliant. The cold-shoulder key hole dress from bebe was skin tight in all the right places, with a high neck that covered her neck and back and allowed for an elegant imagination to pursue. Rose also got her a little stick thingy that laid sparkles all over her and was scented so beautifully. She applied it liberally as she heard the knock at the door. She smiled to herself again in the mirror and shut out the bathroom light. Instead of opening the door, she simply called out, "It's open."

Jasper's breath stopped. He felt his jaw drop but couldn't seem to command it closed. She sat there, on the same couch where they had made sweet memories, and carefully pressed those beautiful legs together while she buckled a strap on a black stiletto. She looked up slightly, her make-up made her look more stunning than she had before. Her eyes were magnified with the deep shadowed gold tones above them, defined with black liner. Her face was flawless, like God had painted her complexion himself. Her lips, soft and succulent, painted a deep red, like her dress. Dear heavens; that dress. It was going to be the death of him. For sure. The skin tight piece of fabric stretched the length of her neck to mid-thigh; with little peep holes of the sweet dip at the middle of her collar bone and barren shoulders. He felt his slacks tighten. She smiled at him as she stood up and walked towards the door way. She reached around him and grabbed a little gold clutch off the table, then kissed him lightly on his cheek.

"So, where are we going? I'm not over dressed, am I?" she asked, light hearted.

"Oh, we are staying right here darling, if I had my way about it." He teased as his hands made their way to her hips to pull her closer to him.

"Awe, but I'm starving." She faux pouted and made him laugh.

oOoOoOoOo

As they walked in, she was struck by the views of Union Lake and the Cascade Mountains. She had passed this place a million times when she came to Seattle with Rose and always wondered about it. The hostess at the little podium asked for their name and he gave it, she tapped her tablet and said, "Follow me please." She led them to a nice, quiet, secluded table that had a beautiful tapper candle in the center held by a crystal sphere.

Over in the corner, an older man played sweet wistful notes on a gloss-black baby grand piano and the quiet melody hummed through her ears and made the atmosphere that much more enchanting. The hostess brought them back a bottle of Pinot Noir and they chatted and sipped their wine until their first course arrived; flame seared French onion soup – then a cobb salad with fresh blue cheese – then finally crab for her, and rib-eye steak for him. They finished off the meal with molten chocolate lava cake; once the waiter brought it to the table; he poured a shot of vodka over each plate and lit the dessert on fire. It was a beautiful spectacle. As she tried to stuff the orgasmic chocolate into her already full stomach; she let the music take her to another place.

"Where did you wonder off to, Alice? Did you follow that silly rabbit again?" Jasper asked her. Alice instantly looked at him; her mother used to ask her that all the time when she would start day-dreaming. In a sweet, warm voice she would muse "_Where have you gone, Mary Alice? Off to Wonderland again?" _She couldn't help but smile at him.

"You reminded me of someone just then. Someone who I love and miss very dearly." Her tone was soft and serious all at the same time.

"Hmm. I didn't mean to up-set you." he reached across the table to grasp her hand. "I'm sure they miss you as well. Anyone in their right mind would."

"She passed away ten years ago, my mother. She taught me how to play piano, how to paint, how to enjoy the little, simple things in life." She reminisced.

oOoOoOoOo

They pulled back up the short drive way. Jasper went around to help her out of the tall Chevy truck. She had lured him back here with promises of a studio tour. He was very curious to see where she might have tucked this little treasure away at. They walked into the house and she gave Chowder his due attention, Jasper followed suit. He did want the cat to like him; after all, he planned on sticking around this girl as long as she would allow it. She shirked off her jacket and turned around to kiss him.

"I'll just be a moment." She said as she slipped into her bedroom. She came back out wearing a silky robe and kissed him again, grabbing his hand to lead him through the kitchen. She opened up what Jasper thought would have been a pantry and it revealed a set of old wooden stairs. "Right up here to my secrete layer." She teased. The moonlight from the windows in the attic allowed her to see her way without turning on any lights until they reached the top. Jasper stopped before she did, looking around at all of the beautiful paintings. Bright bold colors of blues, indigos, reds and greens flooded his senses. Each one unique. Each one exquisite. Beneath the window was a baby grand piano; unlike the one at the restaurant, this one was old and weathered. The once glossy finish was now matte and the dark brown wood-grain was showing through.

Alice loved to play, although only moderately good at it, and sitting on the old cushioned piano stool she ran her fingers over the ivory keys. Depressing a couple of the black and white notes, she laid her cheek on the top of the instrument so she could feel the vibrations of the strings inside. The temptation was too much, and the atmosphere around her seemed to beg for Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata so quietly, at first, she deftly pressed each key and began the haunting melody that she so enjoyed hearing. As she lost her self in the refrain, the musical crescendo grew louder and louder. With her eyes closed, her finger tips danced over the black and white of the piano's keyboard as the music filled the silent attic with sound. She forgot Jasper was there; she forgot she was anywhere; she was in Wonderland again.

Jasper walked up behind her to listen to her playing. Unaware of his presence until he pressed against her back and leaned down to deliver a kiss to her neck, she stopped abruptly from the surprise of his touch, then relaxed and reached a hand up to touch the smoothness of his muscular shoulder.

Sitting down beside her, Jasper indicated that he wanted her to continue playing, so picking up where she left off Alice continued to play as he continued to kiss her neck. Finishing with Beethoven, she then began Mozart's Ein Klein Nachtmusik. His kisses became more intense as he sucked and bit at the tender skin on her neck then slid her robe down over her breasts.

This was an enjoyable game to her, trying to concentrate on playing as his touches grew in strength and number. Jasper had removed her robe completely and now had his head between her chest and the keyboard as he bit her nipples and traced his tongue around her small areolas. Gently parting her legs, his fingers slowly searched the heat of her skin for the small spot that sent shivers through her thighs.

When he heard her playing slow or drop off, he would stop until she picked it up again then he would continue to slide his fingers in and out of her wet opening. Jasper got up from the bench and moved it back a little from the piano; then he slid her body forward so that her round bottom was just barely on the seat. He crawled under the piano and positioned his face between her legs and parted her lips with his fingers.

As soon as his tongue touched Alice's clit, she stopped playing. Jasper reached up and returned her hands to the keys, and as she began again he continued to roll his tongue over her swollen nub. As he bit at it with his teeth and then sucked on it, her playing became erratic and he knew she was losing concentration on the music. A couple of well-placed nibbles and he could taste her sweet juice flowing into his mouth as her legs shuddered and the playing stopped.

When he had licked the last drop from her hot lips, he stood up and dropped his pants freeing his hard cock. He lifted her off of the piano stool, then sat down with her in front of him and turned her to again face the piano's keyboard. He ran his fingers down her arms as he placed her hands on the keys and brought her bottom into his lap.

"Play," was the only word he spoke and Alice began again with Beethoven's Fur Elise. As she continued to play, he entered her, and rocked his hips back and forth in time with the music. She played as best she could and tried to concentrate as he filled her. Her ass smacked against his thighs as she bounced up and down to meet his thrusts.

Every time Jasper pushed his shaft into her welcoming warmth, she would pound the chord she was playing with intensity then stumble back into the flow of the melody. The sound was strange, yet amusing to him as he kissed between her shoulder blades and reached around to run his fingers over her clit.

She could no longer play any recognizable tune; as her muscles contracted around Jasper's dick, she gave over control of her body to the rise of pleasure that was mounting within her. She wantonly bounced on top of him as her feminine mouth milked his ready cock and her climax exploded through the muscles of her legs and up her belly to the tips of her hard nipples.

He held her hips as he felt her body growing weak from the ecstasy that was ripping through her. Catching her in his arms as her legs gave way beneath her – he was not done making music with her just yet.

As he lifted her body and lay her face first on top of the baby grand, he spread her legs and placed her knees on top of the black and white ivories. Grabbing her hips to pull her closer, he again drove himself into her slick opening. Pulling and pushing her body into and away from his own, he felt his need for her growing with every stroke. With each thrust he lifted Alice's body slightly from the piano, then listened to the noise as her knees came down upon random keys. Beethoven and Mozart would have turned in their graves.

His own body began to grow tense as his muscles readied themselves to cum and feeling Alice readying to climax again as her inner muscles clamped onto his sensitive staff, he could no longer stop his body from releasing his lust. The sound of their cries mixed with the pounding of the piano reverberated through the attic as their passion exploded.

Fading sounds from the musical equipment were replaced by the gasping and heavy breathing of the pair as they absorbed their pleasure, letting it wash over their bodies. Nothing could compare to the music that they made together.

Jasper sat back on the bench and kissed her exposed bottom before he pulled her down into his lap. Brushing a few errant strands of hair out of her face, he then covered her lips with his as he caressed her breast with his hand. Looking into her dark brown eyes, he smiled at the dreamy look that he could see within them.

She whispered softly to him; "I have an idea."

"What?" he chuckled deeply. She hopped off his lap and ran naked across the room to grab her covered pallet and tackle box that had many messy, scrunched tubes of various colors of paint. She put those both on a little table by a canvas that he could tell once inhabited a painting of some sort, but had been white washed. Then back across to the other side of the room; she was grabbing a coffee can with the lid duct-taped on and an old pickle jar full of different sized brushes. Wordlessly, she was throwing the brushes around, slashing and dabbing at the canvas with incredible accuracy.

Before his eyes, Jasper had the privilege of watching the wonderfully, beautiful woman who he was falling in love with, naked, sated with his passion, creating a masterpiece.


End file.
